Nature stood on the boardwalk, looking at the ocean beyond. Westerly was beside her. He did not touch her. He remained professional. She grabbed the railing with her gloved hands. She watched as a cruise ship made its way across the water. She wished she was on it, but knew she would not be able to take so many people, no matter what size the ship was.

Deputy Spangle walked up to her. He stopped a respectful distance away. He too would not touch her. Another man was with him. “Mrs. Kranderson, this is Officer Myristate. He’s with the local police department. He’s the one who took the report.”

The officer tipped his hat. “Ma’am.”

Nature glanced at him. He looked like he should be still in high school with his boyish appearance. She nodded acknowledgement before returning her gaze to the water. “How old was she?” she asked.

“Excuse me?” Myristate said.

‘How old was she?”

“Eighteen.”

Nature closed her eyes. She wished the visions coming to her mind would disappear. The ideas of what that monster had planned for this girl were something that no one should ever have to endure. She faced the officers.

“Did the person who abducted her touch anything?”

“I’m not sure of all the places,” Myristate said. “But the witnesses do remember him touching some stuff.”

“Can you show me all the places where he stood?”

“Right here for one.”

Nature looked at the railing. Nothing but wood was visible. She saw Westerly stand back and took a deep sigh. She did not like it, but she was going to have to follow through. She removed her gloves and grabbed the rail. Feelings of happiness flowed through her, along with feelings of wonder, joy, love, and delight. Nothing resembled the feeling of the man here.

“Where else?’

“This way.”

Myristate moved toward the parking lot. She followed. Westerly was behind her. Spangle brought up the rear. The officer stopped at an old rusted oil drum. It sat next to another one with trash in it.

“The witnesses said there was one trash bin here earlier. They noticed two after he left. They thought he must have worked with the sanitation department and didn’t think much of it at the time.”

Again, Nature inhaled deep. She released the breath before touching the drum. With her eyes closed, she gripped the rim and immediately felt a zing shoot through her body. She recognized it. She saw the man as he loaded it in his vehicle. He remained shrouded like the last time. She felt his lust. She felt his need to hunt. She felt sick. She let go with a shudder. Moving her hand around the drum, she tried to detect the girl. She found it half way down on one side. It was a small trace. She could see her smile, her lovely face, her innocence.

She turned away from the drum. Her legs were wobbly. She felt hands hold her. They guided her to a bench and forced her to sit. She heard someone retching. She realized it was herself.

“It was him, wasn’t it?”

Westerly was kneeling in front of her. When she was finally able to look into them, she saw his eyes were once more filled with concern. She nodded her head yes, unable to bring words past her constricted throat. His face became grim. Standing, he turned to the officers. “You need to fingerprint the drum. The man who kidnapped the girl touched it.”

Officer Myristate stared at Nature. “Are you sure?”

Westerly answered for her. “Yes, she’s positive.”